The pigeon was unbelievably stupid. It had no idea it was about to be hit and refused to move, doing nothing but cooing in place.
Phield couldn't control pigeons. All he could do was pray in silence that the throw would miss.
"Sister, don't—" Seeing her sister about to hurl the stone, Clara panicked and flailed her arms wildly. "Stop! This belongs to the lord!"
"Idiot. Birds don't," Jane replied flatly. Without listening to her sister's explanation, she let the stone fly with a sharp whoosh, striking the pigeon with uncanny accuracy just as it frantically spread its wings.
Phield felt the world spin violently. When the pigeon's vision finally cleared, a pair of clear, wide eyes was staring straight at him.
They were beautiful eyes—pure, gemlike sapphire blue.
And within them, Phield could see nothing but raw hunger.
